Over Before It Began
by Roriette
Summary: They were over before they even began. For Natsu, it was just a classic bet to see whether Gray would fall for him. Gray was the naive boy who fell for it. Once he found out the truth, he ran away and made a 180 change in order to kill the past. Years down the line, the jaded Gray is a hardened hitman who lands a job with one notorious mafia, Fairy Tail. And the boss? Natsu.
1. Mission

**Rori's Corner:** Plot bunnies are jumping at me, so what am I to do but catch them? I will uh _eventually _update my other uh on-going fics. But I must push this one out, cause, cause! I really wanted to write a NaGray/Gratsu. Oh, and this one takes liberties with _Sekaiichi Hatsukoi_. Man, that anime. I love it. Aherm. Anyway. Gehee ;D

**D-d-disclaimed. sadfaisu.**

* * *

Over Before It Began

**01: **Mission

* * *

Love is stupid, and people who believe in it are just as stupid.

No one compromises in a relationship. Everything is just bubbles and rose petals, and neither looks at the real picture, because the one in front of them is too dazzlingly perfect. Each tries their hardest to create an invulnerable image, and each step forward is two steps back. In the end, love is just a figment of the imagination. A foolish attempt at idealizing fantasies.

They say that love is immortal; that love is imperfectly perfect; that love is endless; that love lasts forever. They're all wrong.

"This way, Mr. Fullbuster."

The oak hallway was lined with scenic landscapes. As they strolled down the corridor, Gray noticed the windswept snowstorm raging outside the frosted windows. The heat in the interior of the affluent compartment - the headquarter of the notorious mafia famiglia, Fairy Tail - was a scalding burn. It was the exact opposite of his preferred climate, thus he was feeling irritated and prickly. He wanted to hurry up and get it over with.

Not only was the suffocating heat horrid, his thoughts were also running rampant. Somehow, the things he had bottled away in a little crevice in the back of his mind were suddenly assaulting him mercilessly. All because he decided to take on this particular job and had to go to this particular building. All because he decided to try something 'new.' Ever since he stepped inside the obscure territory of Fairy Tail, the past he had so carefully sealed away had unsealed itself inch by inch and started playing with him, haunting his mind with fragments and unrealistically bright memories of flamingo hair, wide smiles, and warm touches.

He hated thinking about the past.

"Our boss is expecting you at the last door."

Love is a disaster in the making. But in particular, he detested the idea of "first love." His blood boiled just at the very thought of it. Never again. Never again would he make an idiot out of himself. First love is a simple delusion. He was just a naive little kid who went out of his way for attention. An orphan like him was bound to fall for that kind of otherworldly smile. It was big, nice, and made him feel warm. Loved. That was a delusion, too.

He was an idiot. He was still an idiot. How dare that pink haired bastard make a fool out of him! Just because he was an innocent, starved for affection, stupidly bundled up and fearful of the cold, young freshman at the academy back then...!

His tightly clenched fists made his nails dig and etch into his skin. He unclenched them, gritting his teeth at the hated memories and the absurdity of his wandering thoughts. He hadn't given his past the time of day for years, and _now_ it decided to rear its ugly head? Where was the justice?

His feet followed the butler-slash-bodyguard of their own accord, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his belted, black pants. They had finally gotten to the door at the end of the hallway. Gray's mind wandered absentmindedly for the second time as the man he was tailing knocked on the oak door.

_Knock. Knock._

There was no response, but there were quiet, hushed voices muffled behind the door, along with suspicious noises of a creaking something.

The butler-slash-bodyguard frowned and raised his hand again. Before he could connect his fist, a loud exclamation sounded from the room, "Lisanna, I-I'm c-cumming!"

_This day can't possibly get any better, can it._

Gray glared pointedly at the butler-slash-bodyguard, who coughed into his hand awkwardly, muttering something about "young love," as if that was a great excuse, before he raised his voice and announced clearly, "Boss, your three o'clock appointment is here."

A cacophony of noises clattered.

"Shit, ow, Lisanna, I _told_ you we didn't have time for round two!"

"Geez, you were all for it earlier! I didn't see your ass complaining when I was sucking you off. Hmph!"

"Keep it down, damn! I think he's waiting outside. Just - hey, that's _my_ shirt!"

"But you got your spunk all over my dress, so how do you expect me to go out prancing around in that? Unless you just _want_ everyone to know what we did. Not that I'm complaining, hehe."

"L-Lisanna, can't you keep that on the d-low?! I told you they're waiting outside! Now hurry up and leave so I can work already."

"God, you're such an ungrateful idiot. You're lucky I'm in love with your ungrateful idiot self, or else I would've been _long_ gone. And who else would be around to play with you when you get bored doing desk work at the office, hmm?"

"Oh... got me."

"Yup! So where's my kiss?"

There was a dramatic sound of lips smacking.

"Okay, get out. Can you make me grilled chicken for dinner?"

The doors finally opened, and a preppy, short-haired albino flounced out of the room, a long plaid shirt covering her small figure and short shorts peeking from under the shirt. Her bright cerulean eyes glittered as her happy smile widened.

And Gray realized that perhaps love did exist, after all.

The girl named Lisanna waved her hand at the man left behind in the dimly lit office, saying, "Only if you make enough money to cover it!"

"Tch! Don't be cheap, Lis!"

"Love ya, Natsu!" she replied and turned around.

Gray immediately noticed the red marks on her white skin, and blanched. She saw the butler and him, and then a deep blush coated her entire face. She covered her horrified mouth with her hand.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know Natsu was being serious about the appointment! You know, how he's always such a lazy bum and all! I'm sorry! Please don't mind us, even though that's kind of hard to do," she muttered the last part, bowing her head.

"No worries, Lady Lisanna," the butler said. "You just head along now, while boss does his job."

"I feel really bad though," the girl whimpered, looking from the bodyguard to Gray, who shrugged his shoulders haplessly.

"Man's got needs," was his chosen comment.

A relieved grin spread over Lisanna's face, in spite of the sheepish look in her eyes. "Well, I'll be counting on you!" she said to the bodyguard and left, the padding of her flip-flops echoing after her.

A pregnant silence ensued. Then:

"Come in already, Fullcracker! I've been waiting three hours for your ass!"

Gray's brow twitched.

What the hell was this guy's problem? _He'd_ been waiting? More like, _fucking_ for three hours, while _he_ had to wait fifteen minutes for their shit to be done. And - Fullcracker?

He cracked his knuckles.

The guy had to be a real asshole to plummet a first impression. Like, who _does_ that?

"I'm staying out here," he declared.

The bodyguard chose not to comment. Probably in line with his decision. No one in their right mind would waltz into a recently sexed up room. Seriously.

"Are you coming in or am I dragging you in?" the obnoxious voice of a certain Mafioso said.

The room was too dark. None of the lights was on. Gray squinted and still couldn't make out how his new client looked like. Was the guy nocturnal or vampiric or what? Why was it so dark in there?

He crossed his arms and stood with his legs apart, showing off his confidence. "I'm staying the fuck out here."

And before he even got the first two words out of his mouth, a hand snuck out from the open doors, grasped his t-shirt collar with a powerful grip, and dragged him in with a dizzying speed. He barely managed to gasp in surprise before he found himself encased in a creepily dark room, the oak doors clanging shut with a sound slam and click.

"What the hell..." he groaned, looking around. From what he could tell in the black, the curtain was draped over the window horizontally, left to right, blocking out any decent source of light. There was a clutter of things everywhere in the office, with the work desk piling stacks of paper and pens, picture frames hanging on the left wall, and the couch he was standing in front of moved haphazardly in a diagonal. The comforter on the leather couch was mussed and disoriented.

And it was also reeking of grotesque sexual activities.

He covered his nose in disgust, stepping back and flapping his hand rapidly to drive away the scent of things he'd rather not think about. "Dude, what the hell," he growled, affronted by the complete and utter lack of respect from this rude-ass client. He should _not_ have accepted this job offer. Even if the reward was two million Jewels. This was _not_ worth the trouble.

"All right, Fullcracker. Let's talk business."

The voice was young. He sounded around Gray's age. Mid twenties. Where the hell was the man? He couldn't see in the pitch black.

"Okay, if you're not going to febreze this disgustingly gross room, at least turn the damn lights on. I don't know who the hell I'm talking to," he snapped.

"Oh, my bad." There was a rustling of movement.

"And then there was light," Gray remarked sarcastically when the switch was finally flicked on, and the office was lit dramatically by hanging crystal chandeliers and dim yellow lamps on either side of the empire work desk. As he had guessed, the office was a sad excuse for a working area. It was downright a pig sty. Pictures, newspapers, clothes, and plastic darts were scattered everywhere. And by everywhere, he meant everywhere; if he moved even one step, he would impale his foot into a random sharp object on the carpeted floor.

If he hadn't mentioned it already, he would mention it now: he _hated people._

"Sorry, I can't handle mornings, because it's too bright and annoying. That's why I make sure the room's dark."

Gray moved his gaze to the man. Pink, spiky hair, wide brown eyes, a serious expression, a white scaly scarf, and a black suit. That white scarf...why did it seem so familiar? Felt like some sort of nostalgia or deja vu catching a hold of him whenever he looked at it. He shook his head briefly to clear his mind. This wasn't the time to be thinking about worthless crap.

"Fullcracker - "

"Full_buster_," Gray corrected. _Shitface_, he added mentally. _It's already three in the noon._

The pink head ignored him anyway, continuing on with his arms spread out on each end of the large, swivel chair, his legs crossed in front of him, "Your mission is to kill all five members of Raven Tail before their court trial. I want every last one of them dead before they reach the summit. And if any of the officials see you, kill them, too. If even one of them survives, your reward is zil."

The stench of the drying semen and sweat was getting to Gray, who could barely pay attention to the client's request. His eye twitched. "All...right," he exhaled, backing up and away from the stinking couch until he felt the door behind him.

"Raven Tail messed with a few members of my famiglia. There's no way I'll ever forgive them for it. Not even if they try to run away to court. That's not enough to satisfy me. That's not enough to satisfy _Fairy Tail_."

"Okay, that's cool and all, but can you pass me that air freshener next to the desk so I can finally breathe?"

The client, who was scowling and in deep thought and everything, unconsciously tossed the bottle over to Gray, who caught it and started hosing down the couch and anywhere he could reach. Seconds later, his nose felt free. He breathed in, jolly and happy.

Strange. Quiet Jasmine. This was his favorite scent. Did this client have the same taste as him? He always bought this scent, because it reminded him of Ul, even back in the old days. Whenever he and _that guy_ hung out in his house, the fresh, flowery scent of jasmine lingered on their clothes. It was a nostalgic aroma.

But, enough. No more thinking. No more sentimentality. That was enough for a day. It was because of _him_ that now he could stand here, stronger than he ever was before, tied down to nothing, a free soul that would no longer let anyone get the better of him. That dark arc of his past was long over, and he _needed_ to move on.

Why was he traipsing back into that dreadful segment of his life all day today, when he managed years after consecutive angry years to block those unnecessary memories? He couldn't remember his name anymore. He couldn't even remember his _face_ anymore. After that whole incident, he beat everything that he knew about _him_ out of his head. He shouldn't be thinking about that guy now. Why couldn't he get that?

He felt ridiculous. Down. Annoyed.

He just needed to accept the terms this client laid out and leave. Any longer he was stuck here, and the more he'd go insane, for reasons unknown. All he knew was that he couldn't stay any longer. He needed to leave. _Now_.

"Understood. I kill the Raven Tail famiglia before they reach the court, using any means necessary. Any official that sees me in the act also gets offed," Gray recited. He locked eyes with the client. The pink-haired man stared at him without breaking eye contact. It was silent for a moment, and then Gray prompted, "Anything else?"

"Fullbuster," the young boss of the infamous mafia said, a look in his eyes that Gray couldn't decipher. It was a little unnerving. It felt as if the man was peering at him _too_ intently.

"Fairy Tail," he replied in the same manner that the man addressed him with.

The brown eyes of the client narrowed, his brows frowning. He looked as if he were trying to recall something. A confused expression dashed across his face. He cocked his head. Left. Right. Left. Right. His lip pursed.

Gray's foot tapped impatiently on the carpet. What did this dude _want_? He needed to get out, and the guy was giving him a hard time. After this job was finished, he was going to put Fairy Tail on the blacklist. There was no way he could deal with this man again.

"Why do you look so...familiar?"

Gray sighed. The man actually looked serious about it, too. "I don't know," he began sarcastically, "maybe 'cause I've been standing here for half an hour, talking to you about taking down a rival mafia gang? And that two million Jewel reward?" _And dying from that gross leakage of gross sex aftermath?_

And then he started backing up again, because the client with the weird question had gotten up out of his seat and was stalking over to him, only to realize that he had already backed up to the point that the wall was digging into his behind. _Oi, oi...what now?_

He glowered at the client, who ignored his contemptuous expression, as the man leaned in until they were merely a few centimeters apart, breathing in each other. Gray's face twitched in disgust when he smelled the stench of sex on the man, unable to do much as he was uncomfortably trapped between a hard body and an equally hard wall.

"W-what," he deadpanned, his cobalt eyes following the mafioso's gaze, which had slid down from his face to his neck, and from his neck to the unbuttoned top of his chest. He didn't even remember unbuttoning them. A little ghastly danger was whispering in the back of his mind, and he was tempted to shove the man off of him, when the latter suddenly looked back up into his eyes with an intensity that terminated all of his thoughts.

"Gray?" the man mouthed, his brown eyes wide, stunned, and serious.

Gray looked at the pink-haired man with surprise. How did he know his name? Did they meet before? One-night stand? No, he didn't remember this man at all. Who could possibly forget that color hair? Excluding the flashes of flamingo hair that he'd see in his memory sometimes, but that was obviously not it. He felt warm hands, extremely warm ones, clasp onto his, and he looked down, confused as to where this was heading.

What was going on?

"Gray! You're Gray, aren't you?" the man was saying, and there was that expression in his eyes again. The one that he couldn't figure out. It was making his insides churn. He had no idea why.

He shook his arms, trying to shake off the grip on his hands. The grip only tightened, squeezing until he could feel numbness tingling along his limbs. He winced. What the hell was going _on_?

And then that serious face broke into a grin - a magnificent, pearl-white grin - and Gray was suddenly wrapped into one of the tightest embraces he'd ever received. The bear hug was nearly life-threatening; he had trouble breathing. He was chest to chest with this stranger, who was currently attempting mafia secret technique "Death by Hug," and thoroughly, thoroughly confused. It'd be nice if someone would offer to explain this mind-boggling situation to him.

A clear, concise, explanation would be nice.

And if they could somehow get this dude with ridiculously compact muscle off of him at the same time, he'd be eternally grateful.

Despite his struggles, the man wouldn't let go. His head, pink hair and spiky strands and all, was nestled into the junction between Gray's neck and shoulder, the rest of his body entangled around his, like how a snake would coil around its prey. He was aware of the way the strange man was sniffing at him like a dog, trying to take in his scent. And honestly, he had no idea how to feel about all of this. This man was the boss of one notorious mafia, Fairy Tail...right? Why was he clinging onto _him_, a freelance hitman, like it was the most normal thing to do?

"Mm...you smell _good_, Gray," said boss of one notorious mafia moaned into his neck, and he could not suppress the shiver that ran through him at the hushed whisper. There was a suspicious, hard bulge pressing into his abs.

Someone get him out of here.

_Now_.

_Knock. Knock._

Two polite knocks on the door were it all took for Gray make his escape. At the expense of the mafioso's momentary surprise, he squirmed and wriggled out of the man's hold and quickly turned the knob, wringing the door open. Freedom!

The butler-slash-bodyguard stood there in the entrance towing a food cart. "Refreshments, boss? Mr. Fullbuster?"

"Next time!" Gray shouted as he dashed out of the messy office, out of that dangerous setting, and away from one weirdo-creep-pink-haired-boss.

"GRAY, GET BACK HERE!"

He smirked. There was absolutely no way he was going back there.

Although...he would have to go back to meet the boss of Fairy Tail eventually once he accomplished the mission. Hopefully, by then, the current boss would have - unfortunately - died and replaced by an heir. Or something.

* * *

**Rori's Corner: **Or something. Ushishishi~


	2. Summit

**Rori's Corner:** I would update every second of every day if it were physically possible! but here it is, without further delay. I'd say it's a pretty fast release. c; Thank you for reading, reving, faving, alerting, etc! And I apologize for the italics. I personally never like reading italicized full-blown paragraphs, but it's necessary this time. Q the Q.

* * *

Over Before It Began

**02:** Summit

* * *

_He was bundled up again. Four sets of long sleeved t-shirts, three sets of wool shirts, two sets of winter coats, one home-knitted scarf, four pairs of navy boxers, and two pairs of grandpa pants. He was stumbling and wobbling, climbing stairs and dripping sweat, out of breath. Finally, he reached the classroom, just as the school bell rang. Just in time to be considered late, like always._

_"In your seat, Milkovich, in your seat!" his homeroom teacher ushered._

_He wheezed a breathless reply and tried to squeeze past a row of tables and chairs. His peers sneered. That wasn't unusual. He tripped on a suspicious extension of limbs that were 'coincidentally' stuck out when he attempted to walk past. His classmates broke out in laughter. When he finally made it to his seat, five minutes had passed, and the red shame on his pale face hadn't dissipated in the slightest. Class began, the teacher assigned cleaning duties, his peers chatted, and he usually ended up the main topic of their jeers. Class ended, the teacher dismissed them, his peers strolled out one after the other, and he was pushed and shoved until he was the last one to leave._

_And that was the routine._

_He was having lunch by himself, up on the rooftop of the academy. The homemade lunch that his guardian Ul made for him. At that time, Ul was everything to him. She was the mother he'd never met, his teacher, his protector, and his friend. He wouldn't know what to do if she disappeared, too. No, he did know. He was fragile and weak enough to know right away._

_He'd probably throw himself into the sea._

_Lunch had gotten cold. The rice was sticking to each other. The broccoli was too raw. The chicken was a little stale. But he treasured it. He ate it all, finished it until the last piece downed his throat and was tucked into his stomach._

_Ul was in a hurry that morning; she had a business meeting in the next city. She had given him a quick kiss on the forehead before she left, even though he was fourteen years old and a self-proclaimed adult. She had that boyish grin on her face when he pouted at her._

_She was the only person who didn't judge him. The only person who loved him. The only person who took care of him. The only person who understood him. The only person who looked past his strange reaction to the cold. The only person who wasn't bothered by his sensitive and shy nature. The only person who didn't make fun of him for dressing in excessive amount of clothes. The only person who ignored all his weird flaws and kissed him on the forehead and told him to sock the hell out of anyone who dared to bully him._

_He thought she was the only important person in his life._

_And she was, until that afternoon. He was finishing up the undercooked lunch, when a group of kids came up to the rooftop. They were juniors, and delinquents, to top it off. One look at their piercings, mohawks, and scowls was enough to make him shudder._

_"Yo, 'i'zzat fat boy that freshman?" one of them said, and the rest looked at him. He shook his head left and right, cold with fear. He knew what was coming. Those condescending sneers were all the proof he needed. One minute later, his collar was snatched up, and his feet were dangling. He choked, his throat constricted by the pressure._

_"L-Let me go!" he rasped, kicking his feet. His body swayed, the heavy clothes weighing him down._

_"Shut up, weirdo. Who the fuck wears so much in the middle of damn summer? Can't you tell it's almost one-hundred degrees? The hell's wrong with you!" The grip on his collar shook him._

_Bullies. Barking laughter. He could only blame himself for being so weak and so weird. There was no one he hated more than he, himself. He had no friends. No want but Ul. Why was he so pathetic -_

_"Ow!"_

_"What the fuck!"_

_BAM._

_Gray was suddenly back on his feet. He looked around confusedly. What just happened? The bullies were knocked out, one slumped against the fence, the others lying around on the concrete, an unconscious head bumping into his foot. He blinked. "That wasn't me...was it?" Did someone just..._

_A pressure on his shoulder alerted him to another person; he turned around._

_Unusual flamingo hair, glowing under the bright afternoon sun, and a beaming grin._

_He was immediately pulled in. That boy was too dazzling and warm._

_"Hey, my name's..." the other teen introduced himself. Loud, proud, and confident._

_"...-Tsu..?"_

_Everything that he wasn't, he was. That afternoon, the sun was up high, the clouds had cleared, the sky was blue, and he made a friend._

_"I'm...Gray."_

And that was when he woke up.

He sat up, hands covering his face. The plain blue sheets hugging his body slid down to his waist, making a shadowed dent between his drawn legs. He leaned into his palms, elbows on his knees. Rabid heartbeats pulsing like a cheetah dashing across a hot desert, hunting for its dinner. The only difference was that he was the prey. The prey to the nightmares of the incorrigible past.

He hadn't had that dream in years.

It was unfair. He had worked so hard to forget it. He thought time was the miracle worker. Time could change him. Time could erase his detested memories. But time couldn't undo the past.

The little moonlight filtering in through the small window illuminated his sweat. His naked body had broken out in cold perspiration all over. All the while, he tried not to think. He didn't want to remember anymore. No more of that. The traces of what had been were strong enough that he burned with bottled fury. The traces of the fact that he was so weak. The fact that he had to be saved. The fact that he had to be saved by _him_.

His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip. Prickles of blood accompanied a stinging pain. It wasn't enough to dull the feeling of hitting rock bottom.

That dream was too vivid. So unfairly vivid. So damn _real_.

When he was so close...this close to forgetting everything.

He snatched the pillow behind him and threw it vehemently into the wall. The deteriorating plaster wall lost some of its fading white paint upon the harsh impact. The pillow dropped to the floor listlessly and landed with a muffled thump. Gray breathed in and out unsteadily.

Enough. He had enough.

_Bzz. Bzz._

His dark gaze rested on the vibrating mobile on the bedside table. Next to it, the neon clock read 3:03 AM. He scowled. Who would call at this time of the day? Especially when he just woke up from a dream like that. He grabbed the phone, looking at the blocked caller ID. He slid his thumb over the connect button and waited.

"_Fullbuster_."

Tch.

He was already in a bad enough mood. Fairy Tail _had_ to pick this time and day to annoy him some more.

"What the hell do you want? You know what time it is, right?" he snarled right off the bat, gritty voice the sound of a man who had his sleep interrupted.

"_I apologize. I am Panther Lily from Fairy Tail. The one who led you to the boss yesterday. I am calling to make sure you know the time and location of your job_."

"Tomorrow, six pm at the summit of Mt. Hakobe."

"_Perfect. Don't mess up, Fullbuster_."

"I won't." Before he could cut off the phone call, the voice on the line intercepted.

_"Don't hang up yet. I have a message from the boss."_

What now? He just wanted to go back to sleep.

An awkward pause later, the Panther man cleared his throat and said, "_The boss wants to know if you will be interested in having dinner with him after the completion of the job._"

"...What?" He must be hearing things. Did the guy just ask him if he would like to have a date with his boss after he murdered five members of a rival mafia? No way, right? He must be lacking sleep. Yeah. That. He heard a racket on the other end of the line, the sound of a struggle.

"_Not IF! He WILL be eating with me!"_

_"Boss...by all means, that's not a respectful way of - "_

_"Argh, gimme the phone!"_

Gray held the mobile away from his ear.

_"Boss! Allow me to handle this simple request!"_

_"No! Hand the phone over this instant! I'll talk to him!"_

A distant voice: "_Natsu! Why're you fighting with Lily over the phone?"_

"_Oh shit, Lisanna. Lily, listen, if you fail me, I'll be cooking panther meat for breakfast!"_

_"B-boss...!"_

Beep. He hung up.

Gray glared down at the phone, sending it a deep, dark, and murderous look with the hope that it would somehow reach the Fairy Tail headquarter and strike out all of them.

Fucking ridiculous.

He laid back down, kicking the irritating comforter off and letting the cool air wrap around his nude body. What the hell was up with that mafia don? Why was he so latched onto him when he didn't remember the man at all? It had to be a one-night stand. He was probably too drunk to remember the guy. He didn't know any 'Natsu's. So it had to be a late night pick-me-up with a stranger at a nightclub kind of thing. Why else would the guy keep trying to hit him up?

"_Hey, I'm..."_

_"...-Tsu..?"_

He clutched at his head, wincing, as jumbles of blurred pictures and frames and ghostly voices ran around in his brain. Why did he keep remembering these stupid things lately? It was as if something was triggering his confiscated memories, forcing them to reemerge.

"Ugh..." he groaned, smacking himself in the head several times. Cut it out already!

Something warm and furry leaped on his chest, and he looked down, craning his neck slightly. A smile automatically made its way across his scowling lips. "Carla," he greeted the small white cat, who nuzzled into his palm.

"Meoow," she purred, onyx eyes gleaming under the moonshine.

"Sorry. Did I wake you up?" he asked, petting the soft fur of the regal feline with gentle, rhythmic motions. Carla leaned into his touch, lying down on his bare chest and furry, pink ribboned, tail flicking back and forth, tickling his abs. He almost relaxed, when another buzzing noise from the damned phone reached his ears. Carla perked up, lazily watching him answer the mobile.

_"Fullbuster, I believe we disconnected. I am Panther Lily. I apologize for calling for the second time, but I will ask on behalf of the boss for your interest in a dinner affair - "_

"No."

He ended the call and promptly shut it off, as well. Carla left his chest and went to curl up against his neck. "Pricks," he muttered under his breath, dropping the phone on the table before thumping back down on the mattress. He faced the snow-white cat, who already had her eyes closed. "Goodnight, Carla."

"...Meow..."

* * *

Gray watched as the snowy green fields rolled by, the scenery steadily transitioning from white blanketed plantations to white-dipped mountain tops in the distance. He leaned into his palm, elbow propped on the window sill in the second carriage of the train. The heatless carriage was wonderful. His breath left in puffs, fogging up the window pane in small circles. He had stuffed his mini luggage on the top storage compartment, above the comfy seat. As of right now, he was heading to his destination, Mt. Hakobe, the icy mountains where Raven Tail was escorted, and his carriage was thankfully all to himself.

At least, it was, for the first twenty minutes of the hour ride, until the maple door slid open, and a disturbingly familiar, drunken face popped in.

"Oh? Looks like this one's occupied," the drunkard slurred, turning back around to holler at the train attendant. "Hey, you told me this one's open, and it ain't!" The flustered attendant responded by quietly asking him to keep his voice down so as not to disturb the other passengers. The patronized alcoholic responded to the response by taking a swig from his wine gourd. "Get me an open room before I bust this carriage into pieces of chopped wood, 'aight?"

"S-sir, calm down. We will help locate an open compartment to the best of our ability, but for now, _please_ room with another passenger."

"Trains these days...don't know shit," the drunkard mumbled, swaying precariously as the train looped into a tunnel. He ended up tangling his limbs and falling into Gray's previously solo carriage room, landing face first and red wine trickling onto the navy floor.

Gray stared down at the groaning man, unimpressed. "Bacchus, you're as stupid a drunk as the last time I saw you," he remarked. "Didn't the Council pass Amendment XIV, which strictly prohibited carrying alcoholic liquid in public?"

"Huh..." the man with his dark hair wrapped in a white bun, pierced ears dangling gourd earrings, raised his head to look blearily up at Gray. "Who the hell are you? Insulting me out of nowhere...wait...Gray, that you?"

Gray smirked. "The floor looks pretty cozy. I don't mind if you lie there forever." In spite of his taunt, he reached out his hand, and the latter grasped it. With a quick tug and pull, Bacchus rose, cracking his neck and stretching his arms.

"Never thought I'd see you here. When was the last time we met, what, a year ago?"

Gray nodded as Bacchus took the bench opposite his. "How's your Quatro Puppies or whatever doing?"

"_Yo_," the drunkard looked at him, a warning tone hanging on his sneered mouth. "It's Quatro Cerberus, FYI. No matter what you nubtards say, our souls will always be - "

"_Wild_." Gray smirked.

Bacchus took another swig, his lips stretched into a wide, Cheshire grin. Gray crossed his arms, returning the smile. The quirky smile disappeared the next second when the heavy alcoholic leaned in and hovered in front of Gray's face, close enough that the brunet could count the triangular markings under his catlike eyes and smell the putrid stink of red wine on his breath.

Gray leaned back, pressing into his seat and creating distance. He wrinkled his nose, scowling at the drunkard. "What the hell was that for?"

"Ain't that obvious?" Bacchus muttered, chugging the last drops of the alcohol and then swiping his tongue with a satisfied sigh. His cheeks were quickly coloring a dark red. He refocused his attention on the disgruntled hitman, smirking. "I'm horny as hell right now. And you're over here, hot and available. We can really get the ball rolling, _hard_, know what I mean?"

"W-where the hell are you touching, damn perv!" Gray stuttered when the other man's knee slid between his legs and pressed heatedly against his privates. His face turned pink, and a dark scowl crossed his lips.

"Come on, do it for old times' sake," Bacchus whispered into his ear, tugging on his earlobe with his jagged teeth. "Remember that one time we ended up in the hotel room? It was mad hard to do, too, with your overprotective bro - what's his face - that Lyon guy, watching us."

"Yeah, and remember how I punched the fucking daylights out of your drunk ass when you tried to feel me up?" Gray growled, pushing against the alcohol addict's muscled chest and forcing the intruding knee between his legs away.

Bacchus's forehead knocked into his jaw when the train bumped, and Gray uttered a pained groan. "What? You telling me we never made it past me grabbing your hot ass that night? Man, I could've sworn I was fucking something tight that night. Who the hell was it, then?"

"How the hell would I know? And you're not making past anything, because your drunk ass is getting knocked out a _second_ time," was Gray's only warning before he pummeled his fist into the Quatro Cerberus's right-hand man's face, effectively whacking the man out cold. With a hitched gasp, Bacchus's unconscious body drooped against him, and Gray shoved him back onto his side of the carriage seat. "Asshole."

_Why can't anyone keep their hands to their damn selves?_

For the rest of the train ride, it was peaceful and quiet - except the occasional loud snores that Bacchus let out in his sleep. Half an hour later, Gray reached his destination.

Mt. Hakobe.

He grabbed his light travel pack off the storage and made his way out of the train, stepping onto the frozen ice on the side of the railroad. The white, blue-tinted mountains loomed over him. The wind was strong, lashing at his clothes and skin, and it was wonderfully cold. He inhaled the minty air of the subzero climate.

And then he set out for the summit.

* * *

**Rori's Corner:** I just noticed that I'm the type of writer that doesn't give any useful warnings...but Bacchus hitting on Gray isn't that big of a deal, right? Right. Hope you enjoy'd! And figuring out when to write is such a hard thing to do. Thanks for reading, gehee C:


	3. Click

**Rori's Corner: **Another fast release! Thank you for errthang, hehe. I'm loving all the revs, faves, alerts, and you know the 'dil. Thanks Darkness for correcting my math lmao. 360, seriously? Maybe 359 degrees...nah, Gray would still kill me. This chappie's longer than the previous ones. A little too much content. I was surprised, myself. And I referenced quite a few things here. List the references you can find, and you get a cookie. c; lol anyway. Btw to the idiot prince reviewer, please check your ff inbox. like. now. To everyone else, check that inbox too. gehee ;D

oligarchy - a form of government in which all power is vested in a few persons or in a dominant class or clique; government by the few.

* * *

Over Before It Began

**03:** Click

* * *

The bright sun was setting, slowly sinking down the mountainous backdrop. Gray shielded his eyes from the weakening glare. He could tell that his anticipated group was about to start heading up the slope soon, from his position close to the summit of Mt. Hakobe and the telltale, transcending dark blues of the evening sky. He was camping behind a mountain peak, sitting down on the comfortably freezing snow with one leg stretched out, keeping watch on the base. He had found a great vantage point that gave him a vast view of the colossal mountain lying underneath his feet.

The bitter gusts of wind were picking up speed, the premonition of a snowstorm dragging along the tails of their ravaged paths. He stared down at the snowy convex slope, waiting. Five minutes ticked by with no sign of movement, until heavily cloaked and hooded figures appeared at the bottom of the ramp, making their way around the winding ridges and trails of the mountain pathway for the summit, where the special S-class criminal court was located. They were a party of fifteen people, with the five Raven Tail mafiosi chained together in the middle, surrounded by armored guards. They were making cautious progress, even as they marched purposefully up the dangerous slope, robes flapping against the whiplash of the southern wind.

Gray waited for them to climb the steep hill, his hand firmly gripping a small control device. It had two buttons and a timer. The one on the left, color green, was deactivation; the one on the right, color red, was activation. The timer was running, numbers flashing milliseconds, seconds, and minutes, counting down from 20:00:00. He watched the capital guards and the five criminals make work up the seemingly endless slope, their boots pressing down and leaving deep footprints in the fresh snow.

At 15:00:00, he took out his silver handgun, the _Glass Lancer_, from the inside pocket of his white coat. It felt familiar, snug, in his cold hand. It was the first and only gun he weld. It would also be his last. Its blood-stained silver, the inhumane silver which created the hitman in him, was gleaming. Today, as he stood at the top of the icy mountain, stoic cobalt eyes like a snow tiger prowling in the dark, crouching in the shadows of alpine trees, his only mission was to await fresh splatters of red.

At 10:00:00, he had the party that was climbing up Mt. Hakobe right where he wanted them, and he shifted his thumb over the red button on the control. A grim smirk slipped over his lips.

And in that precise moment where he scheduled the activation, a lone figure ahead of the rest had her hood pulled off by the scaly wind, familiar dark hair pooling out, black strands billowing around her face.

At 9:59:59, a moment of hesitation struck him. He was frozen in shock.

"Ul...!" he gasped. _It can't be...!_

The woman had long hair, long enough to reach her thighs. Ul hated long hair. The woman was a Council Commander, he noticed, when he saw the number 9 etched on the royal blue cloak she donned, signature of a member belonging to the oligarchy which controlled Fiore. Ul despised the Council. The woman had the exact same hair and eye color as Ul, but Ul had long since passed away. Ul was dead.

She wasn't Ul.

It was impossible.

He gritted his teeth, forcing his thumb down on the red button and bringing the _Glass Lancer_ to eye level.

BOOOOM!

He couldn't let his emotions sway him. Not while he was on the job. Not when he knew Ul was long dead. False hopes, love, and sentimentality were born only to be trampled. He should have learned that by now. There was no place for those weak feelings in his heart. They would only serve to end him. Ul was gone for ten godforsaken years, and there was no way she could be here, on this very mountain, as the objective of his mission.

The summit had erupted the moment he activated the small bombs he placed around the area. Snow, piles of it, rolled and tumbled, quaking the mountain, down the slope. The ear-numbing sound of the various explosions had caused an avalanche. The white monster was a merciless mass of natural destruction. Gray stood hidden behind the alpine peak, on the side of the summit where he calculated that the avalanche wouldn't be able to reach, and aimed his handgun at the Raven Tail mafiosi, standing his ground even as the mountain shook.

As soon as the booming noise occurred, the woman at the front had halted the group and ordered them to turn around. The horrified expressions were all the same, as they faced imminent death. As death faced them. They scattered, running - dragging - their snow boots, and it was the perfect opportunity for Gray to open fire.

The demonic snow purged, and he aimed, the banging sound of his shots drowned out by the earthquaking avalanche. It was a beautiful monster, and he was a spawn of its demise. He aimed, shooting the chained Raven Tail straight through the heads, one by one. They toppled, blood spurting from the wound, falling on the 45 degree convex slope, linked even in death. The capital guards spared them not a single glance, heavy boots trampling their fallen corpses as they rushed to escape from the cascading snowfall.

The avalanche sped down the slope, and not a single man could outrun it. Within a solitary minute, the entire mountain was covered in a fresh overlay of snow. The officials, the Council Commander, and the Raven Tails members were buried under the catastrophe. Not a single person left alive. Death by a natural disaster.

Gray surveyed the aftermath of his handiwork. The avalanche would bury the bodies deeper and deeper every snowstorm. The gun wounds on the Raven Tail would best be deduced to be an unfortunate result of the mafiosi retaliating against the guards, and the avalanche a tragedy triggered by the guards' responsive open fire.

But that woman...

This was it for her, huh.

There was no point in thinking about it any longer.

There were things that you have no control over. Death was one of them.

And here he stood alone, atop a pile of corpses, again, wondering when this all began.

* * *

He was back in the city. It was eleven at night, closed shops and open nightclubs, neon signs twinkling all around him. He put his hands in his pants pockets, walking to the dilapidated tavern located on the outskirts of Magnolia City, a province now dubbed as a simple, nameless District 7 and a mere state under the government's control.

Magnolia was one of the twelve districts in the country of Fiore. The Council, the federal government made up of twelve powerful politicians, controlled each province, and a Council Commander with the corresponding number of a district governed over their designated cities. Fiore was once ruled by a monarchy, but the citizens rebelled and instated an oligarchy in its place. In order to make governing more efficient, the Council broke up the country into twelve districts, or provinces, and gave each Council Commander a district to oversee.

That woman was a Council Commander. She was number 9, which meant she was the governor of District 9, a province located in the northern region of Fiore, past Mt. Hakobe in the dark woods of Waas Forest. If he remembered correctly, the black mafia that specialized in human trafficking, Grimoire Heart, was the underground lord of the district, much like how Fairy Tail was the underground ruler of the city of Magnolia. If the mafia were lined up on a scale from benign to most dangerous, Grimoire Heart would come in dead last. They were a ruthless criminal organization, linked to prostitution, organ trade, and slavery. They were even rumored to have supplied the government with live specimens for top secret scientific research and experiments.

This was only possible, due to the fact that the Council itself was corrupted. With so much power granted to only a selected few, corruption and power abuse was the only road open for taking. Ten years ago, the Council started passing out laws one after the other: Amendment V, denying the right to bear arms, Amendment VI, disallowing freedom of press and speech, particularly ones that involved backlashing the government, and Amendment XIV, prohibition of carrying alcoholic liquid in public. All across the once "Land of the Free," citizens of Fiore were outraged. A civil war between the oligarchy and the commoners erupted, and the mafia families that were lying dormant under the Council's rule seized the pull of power and sprang into action.

A decade later, the civil war was still raging. The Council had trouble enforcing their laws and regulations. The districts were divided into masses that were loyal to the oligarchy and the other half that aligned themselves with the mafia that ruled from underground. Every city was a war zone waiting to be triggered. Happiness and safety was a thing of the past; a step in the wrong direction could end a life in the present world.

And ten years ago, he was a mere teenage boy whose only worth was to serve as target practice for petty delinquents who had too much time on their hands. The only things he wished for, back then, were simple. Too simple and too optimistic. He wished to continue living a life as the beloved, adopted son of Ul, make friends who accepted him for who he was, and fall in love with a pretty girl like curly haired Juvia Lockser. He was too naive.

He made a friend. At that time, he was just happy to find _one_ person other than Ul who didn't make fun of him. That simple wish was granted and taken away, just like that. He was like the sun. Bright, shining, always attracting attention wherever he went. He was unique. Everything about him stood out. From his striking flamingo hair to his wide, heartwarming grin, he was something he could never be. And, before he knew it, he'd _fallen_. It was a sickly, puppy love, and even worse, they were both boys. But he couldn't control his feelings. No matter what he said, he followed without complaint. It was almost worship. No, it _was_ worship. He had fallen so deep, plummeted into the chokehold, that he didn't think twice.

_"Gray. Hey, uh, I've kind of been hearing some things lately. Can you come up to the rooftop after school so we can talk for a bit?"_

It was them. Those girls who constantly gossiped, spread rumors, and flocked around _him_, like moths to a burning flame. They were opposed to Gray, said mean things about him whenever _he_ wasn't around, and made him feel inferior like the dirt on the bottom of his soles. He should have noticed the way his smile lacked the sincerity it usually possessed.

_"They've been telling me some crazy shit. I mean, they're even offering to bet on it. So, let's get straight to the point - do you like me, Gray?"_

He should have denied it. He should have done everything but admit it. He was foolish. Stupid. Hopeful. _Stupid in love_. He could remember how hard his heart was pounding. So enraptured in the indescribable feeling of being in love, that his thoughtless response was:

_"...I...I do like you. I'm serious, Na - "_

His name. What was it?

No. He shouldn't be thinking about it anymore. If he remembered now, then all the effort he put into forgetting it would just be a colossal waste of time! Stop. Stop it. Don't _think_ about it anymore.

Remember what happened as a result of his naivety. Remember the humiliation. Remember the feeling of betrayal. _He_ never truly loved him. _He_ led him along as a joke between him and his friends. _He_ liked him because he was amusing to him. _He_ couldn't have cared more about him if his life was on the line. _He_ played him like an instrument and broke him just as easily. _He_ wouldn't have mourned for Ul.

Gray clenched his fist, tugging the white coat's hood over his face as he entered the cozy tavern.

That was right. He wouldn't have mourned for Ul. And just like that, _he_ probably laughed when Gray stopped going to the academy after that incident. It was funny, wasn't? When he finally found out the truth after an entire two months of trickery; when he finally realized that he accepted him not because he really wanted to, but because he made a _bet_. Two months of unbelievable bliss, happiness, love - all of that came crashing down with the force of a freight train.

Then, the civil war broke out right that incident, and Ul was one of the many victims caught in the crossfire. In that one time frame, he'd lost everything.

He could still remember her pale flesh. The bloody gunshot that went through her abdomen. The rain pelting down over their forms, one with a pulsing, heart, alive, and the other, dead - gone. The endless turbulence that drowned out his anguish scream. That traumatic memory was the most distinct. It was a memory he could never forget. He could still feel the cold touch of her fading warmth, see the last twitch of her closing eyelids, and sense the dying message on the tip of her tongue.

_Be strong, Gray._

That rainy day, with relentless, booming shots sounding all around the battle fray, armed civilians against armed soldiers, he cried, holding her lifeless body. And he buried her, with the same crying face. His makeshift tombstone on the mounds of wet mud shook and threatened to be uprooted by the cruel squall. He stayed by her tomb for three days. Sobbing. Growing weak. Stomach rumbling endlessly. Throat sore and aching dry until it hurt to make a sound. Fingernails caked with dirt. Nothing but the slosh and mud. He wasn't permitted to cry. He couldn't kill himself. That silver gun, Ul's gun, lying under the rubble from the fight was so close, and so easy. But he couldn't do it. Not when Ul told him to _be strong_. It was a curse to be alive.

At the end of the third day, when the sun was setting and the rain drizzling, someone approached him. A young adult, with snow-white hair. Keen brown eyes. Strong. He didn't say anything. Gray watched him, and he didn't say anything. The only thing he did was kneel in front of his makeshift tomb, both knees on the dirty ground, until his expensive looking fur coat was soaked and his stylish jeans painted brown. He kneeled there, with his head down, and Gray saw water dribbling down his cheeks, but he couldn't tell whether it was tears or the rain.

Thirty minutes passed, and he stood up.

_"Are you Gray?" _was the first thing he said. Composed, calculative, cold. But there was something about him that drew Gray in. That sense of familiarity. The same, underlying warmth that Ul possessed. Or maybe it was the unshed tears he thought he saw in the corners of his narrowed eyes.

He had nodded, sullen. That stranger, who looked older and much stronger than him, mourned for Ul when no one else did. Who was he? He had wondered. _Is he an important person?_ He had thought. _Ul, why did you leave me all alone? _was in the back of his mind.

_"I'm Lyon. Lyon Vastia. Ul's previous student. She mentioned you in her will. Do you want to become strong, or do you want to stay weak until you die?"_

_"I..."_ He had sniffed, clawing his dirtied fingers in the dirt. Grimy skin, tear streaked face, weathered uniform, dry blood - _Ul's_ blood. _"I want to be strong. I'm gonna be strong."_ His dry croak was a declaration and a promise. A promise to whom? Ul? Or himself? Or was it both?

Lyon had reached out his hand, and he had slowly grasped it. Back on his feet. Back to facing reality. Ready to say goodbye to Ul's physical entity even though he wasn't ready at all. Preparing to move on when he hadn't grieved enough. But that was life in a nutshell, and happy endings never existed in the first place. Only weaklings relied on such unrealistic ideals. That day, he lost faith in happy endings. That day, he had to fight for himself, because the one who did the fighting for him had passed on to the other side.

_"Pick it up,"_ Lyon had ordered, nodding at the blemished handgun under the rubble.

_"What?"_

_"Pick up the Glass Lancer. It's Ul's only legacy. And it's yours. Bear her sins and sacrifices and make them your own. That way, you can repay the life she gave you."_

He had never held a gun until that day. It was his first time welding such a powerful and dangerous weapon. On the road to Lyon's secret organization, Lamia Scale, he gripped the gun carefully, afraid to hold it, in fear of accidentally triggering it. He was scared of it, but he had no choice but to hold it like his life depended on it. From then on, the silver handgun, Ul's legacy, never left his side. Whenever he looked at the gleaming metal, he was reminded of Ul. He made it routine to keep the _Glass Lancer_ in top condition, wiping it down until it shone and its calligraphed name stood proud and unmistakable.

It made him who he was today. It created the hitman in him. It was proof that he had changed, and proof that he was strong. From a cub to a wolf, from a seedling to a tree, from a child to an adult, and from a coward to a murderer.

And the criminal he was walked into the tavern, hooded, forced into hiding.

"Do fairies have tails?"

The albino bartender, Mirajane, smiled. She reminded him of someone. He couldn't place who, exactly. "That's an eternal mystery, isn't it?" she said, leading him to the secret underground level of the tavern. She carried an antiquated candle holder as a light source in the dank basement as they descended the winding stairs.

"I'm not trying to get my hopes up or anything, but did your boss die and get replaced by another while I was gone?" Gray asked, absentmindedly pulling off the hoodie and unzipping his outer coat. He was tired and drained. He wanted to go home and sleep. Plus, all the unearthed memories he dug up were enough to make him want to knock himself into a coma. And he definitely, _definitely_, didn't feel like entertaining Fairy Tail's don tonight. One-night stand or not.

Mirajane glanced at him with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, did the Tenth do something again? Broke a table? Punched anyone? Smashed the wall? Just tell me and I will immediately make it up to you. You see, our boss can get a little...rowdy. But that's only because he loves the Fairy Tail famiglia. Even though I sometimes wish he would keep it down a little, because his damages do get somewhat _taxing_ on our financial expenditures."

_None of the above. Why isn't sexual harassment on that list? _Gray scowled at the thought. "Nah, he and I just don't strike on the same level. It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you for being so understanding. I will let boss know." She bowed her head slightly, hands gracefully pressed together on her red dress. Her gesture was respectful, but it was deceiving; the smile on her face promised a slow and painful death. Gray had a notion that it wasn't directed toward him.

He decided he liked this bartender. Not just because of her D-cups or her hourglass figure.

"Mister Fullbuster," a familiar voice announced.

He turned around and met the butler-slash-bodyguard. Mirajane left, climbing back up the stairs. The bodyguard was wearing shades, but the crescent scar on his right brow stood out all the same. He couldn't help but feel an inexplicable nostalgia overflow his senses whenever he looked at it. Weird. He was sure he didn't know anyone by the name of Panther Lily. He was pretty sure of it.

"How was the mission?" the bodyguard asked, opening the steel door with his passkey ID. The entrance slid open soundlessly. Bright light flooded out, dispelling the dank darkness in the underground level. With it came the suffocating heat, which must have been pushed to the max or something, because it was _hot_.

Gray could feel the sweat already forming on his forehead. He glowered. "The usual."

Lily nodded, turning around to look at the hitman and opening his mouth to say something, but the speech died in his throat. He stared, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "Ahem. Erm. Mister Fullbuster, why are you...stripping?"

"What do you mean? It's a freakin' _sauna_ in here." Gray was in the midst of tugging his shirt off, when he realized he was in the act. He pulled the shirt back down awkwardly. "Just...tell that idiot boss of yours to tone down the heater. Innocent hitmen like me could die in this heat. Seriously."

The bodyguard nodded slowly, turning back around.

Gray followed him. The hallways were endless, corridors branching off into other corridors. As they continued, the floor seemed to rise, and the square windows on the wall clued him in the fact that they were no longer underground. Outside, it was too dark to tell whether it had snowed like the weatherman had predicted. He also realized that they were inching in on the dreaded door at the end of the hallway. A scowl automatically slipped on his tired face. He desperately wanted to go home and sleep. Carla was probably getting prissy now, being the little feline with the self-righteous, royal complex, that she was.

"Mister Fullbuster, do you happen to own a cat?"

Gray snapped from his wandering thoughts, befuddled by the abrupt question, which was hitting home a little too suspiciously for his comfort. "Yeah. How did you know?" he asked, a skeptical tone in his voice.

"You look like you would," was the bulky man's simple answer.

_Yeah right..._he thought, but he decided not to question it. He was hanging on the cliff between sleep and consciousness.

"I happen to provide my service to a feline, as well. Here, this is a Special Panther-Lily Styled Nepeta Tea. Your feline will find it a piece of heaven and come to love you even more as her owner," the bodyguard said, his shades glinting out of nowhere as he tossed a antique, hexagon case to Gray.

Gray caught it and opened the box. Inside was a collection of teabags. Nepeta? If he recalled right, nepeta cataria was a plant. He put two and two together. "Catnip," he concluded, now completely dumbfounded. This buff, muscled man had to be high on _something_. But still, these teabags looked strangely familiar. Everything about this scenario felt bizarrely deja vu. How did this Lily guy know that he had a cat? Or that it was a female? "T-thanks," he mumbled, thoroughly stumped, unsure of what to think.

"Anytime."

It was brief, but the Lily man was smiling a knowing smile. Like he knew something he didn't. This situation was too weird. His sleep-deprived mind couldn't catch up. He was exhausted. They were nearing the last door now, and he inspected the case, trying to figure out whatever it was he was missing.

"Happy! Stop running around! Ugh, com'on! _Ow_!"

He looked up from the case, recognizing the voice. It was that Lisanna girl. She was on the floor, rubbing her head, her petite body wrapped in a lavender dress. Next to her, a small blue cat was scratching the last door at the end of the hallway. There was a dead fish lying beside it.

Gray stared. _Happy?_

"Lady Lisanna, are you all right?" Lily asked, helping up the fallen girl.

Lisanna laughed sheepishly. "Thanks, Lily. It's Happy. We just got back from fishing, and he wants to see Natsu, but I can't let him, since Natsu's taking a nap. He only slept for two hours yesterday, you know. So, I don't want to disturb him when he needs the break - oh, is that the hitman from that other day?"

"Yes. But, don't worry about it. Give Happy the Special Pather-Lily dose. I will handle matters here."

"Okay, I'll leave it to you. Happy, come here. Stop struggling, or you won't be getting your delicious catnip!" Lisanna told the wriggling cat in her arms, passing by Gray, who was frozen, his dark blue eyes following them until they disappeared down the hallway.

_Happy...?_

"Mister Fullbuster, the boss should be awaken by now. I did set an alarm around this time for him. Please head inside."

_Happy...that's you, isn't it? I'm not dreaming...right? What are you doing here, Happy? I'm really glad you're okay. Do you still remember me? And Carla? If you're here, then..._

The door closed behind him.

The room was dark, but this time the curtain was drawn. The full moon cast what little light it had into the office. He could see the silhouette of the Fairy Tail don, stooped over the work desk, asleep.

And those memories. They snapped into place. Blurred pictures slowly unsheathing the mosaics. He could no longer hide behind an iron curtain. The ice wall he built had melted. Ten years were all they could last. A decade was too short. Could he do it? Could he end it now? The one who caused that humiliation, the one who made him fall, he was right here, in front of him.

Only one way to avenge himself - was his resolve enough?

The weight of the silver metal in his hand was familiar. It stabilized his inner turmoil. He could do it. He could end it. He raised _Glass Lancer_. It was point-blank. There was no way he could miss. Zero percent possibility of missing. He only had to press it. Just one second, and it was all over.

Just one move.

One second.

And it was done.

_Click_.


	4. Natsu

**Rori's Corner: **I'm going to apologize right now for the slower future updates. School's been throwing me some crazy shit, so my ass gonna be busy for a couple weeks. I'll try to get an update when I can, but it's going to be hard. But anyway, thanks for the support, as always! Hope you keep enjoying the read, and rev/fave/alert, all the goodies. You know it.

* * *

Over Before It Began

**04.** Natsu

* * *

_Click_.

He turned the safety off and held the gun in his hand. Heartbeat running miles; he had never heard a silence so deafening, or the sound of his vessels pump so loudly. He was so close to pulling the trigger, and the moon was the only one watching him.

So many severed memories snapping into place, and so many flashes of that color hair. The face he erased from his mind had never been erased at all. It was just pushed into the crevices of his brain. Scattered fragments floating aimlessly like lost children, all coming together.

Scattered no longer. A completed jigsaw puzzle. The mystery solved, and he wanted to rip it apart into molecules of unending shreds until they could no longer reform themselves.

That wide grin, full of confidence, lit up his world like a well decorated Christmas tree. Those large brown eyes, always looking for a challenge, gave him courage. That flamingo hair, the first thing he noticed, standing apart from the crowd, more unique than the rest, led him to think that perhaps being somewhat abnormal wasn't such a bad thing after all. That face in its entirety surfaced into the forefront of his mind, and he couldn't hide from it any longer.

He needed to kill it before it captured him.

He had to, before he got too close. Before he got too caught up in his own delusions. Before he drowned in his own stupidity. Before he trapped himself in a web of lies for a second time. Before _he_ woke up.

Shatter it.

_Phuooooom_!

The sound of a silenced gunshot, whizzing. It was so easy.

_Crick_.

The sound of the bullet drilling into skin, brain tissue, and bones. So simple.

_Splat_.

The sound of splattering blood, splaying on the desk. He'd done it so many times. Over and over.

_Ooom_...

The dying whimper of the Glass Lancer, as he gathered himself from the recoil. That was all it took.

And it was so easy, routine.

"Why didn't you shoot?"

And so simple.

That he hated himself, because for the first time in seven years, he couldn't pull the trigger.

"I'm asking you, why _didn't you shoot_?"

It was those eyes. Those challenging, brown eyes. They burned, glowing and spitting like ember in the dim night. He loved them, once, a long time ago. Now, the only thing he had was hatred.

He hated those eyes looking at him, demanding for an answer. He hated that flamingo hair, obnoxiously sticking up. He hated those furrowed brows, frowning at him. He hated that mouth, which grinned and lied so easily. He hated that man, Natsu Dragneel, who never told him who he really was. That Natsu, who never told him the truth, who led him along and made him a laughing stock. That Natsu, who made him believe and destroyed him simultaneously.

And that Natsu, whom he couldn't pull the trigger on.

Why couldn't he do it?

"Huh, Gray." Natsu had stepped out of his work desk, walking over to him, blazing eyes never leaving his face. He stopped in front of the raised gun, purposefully putting himself in point-blank range. "I'm right here. Shoot me. I dare you."

Gray gripped the gun tighter, glaring at the mafioso. He was always like this. Provoking, pissing people off, making himself an intentional annoyance. Picking fights with boys two times bigger than him, just to prove he wasn't a coward. Often winning, and sometimes losing. And the few times he did lose, he would promise to do better next time. He knew when he lost, but he never knew when to give up. He was stubborn, and he was fearless. And he had always admired that.

Natsu's grown up face was in front of him. His abnormal pink hair hadn't changed, and neither did his obnoxious personality. He stepped closer, foot inching forward, and Gray held the gun exactly five centimeters from his forehead.

"Come closer. I _dare_ you," he hissed. Their eyes met, dark cobalt clashing against bright brown. And it was so familiar, so nostalgic, that it was painful. The boy he had tried so hard to erase was now the man standing in front of him, looking as if those ten years hadn't passed one bit. But ten years did pass. If he could pull away from that ensnaring gaze, he would see. He would be able to see for himself the changes: the prominent jawline, the firm cheeks that lost their babyfat, the thinned mouth, and the way his lean muscles hid under the formfitting business suit. But Natsu hadn't looked away for one second, holding his gaze, without saying anything, and without saying anymore, Gray stared back, finger on the trigger collecting dust.

Then, Natsu took another step forward, the center of his forehead now pressed against the mouth of the gun. Daring, demanding, in control, stupidly fearless. And this time, he couldn't stop the shaking of his index finger that was hooked around the trigger. And he cursed himself, because it conveyed his hesitation so obviously, and there was no way the mafioso could miss it.

"What you gonna do about it?" the Fairy Tail don asked, without batting an eye, an expectant look in his eyes. He had caught it, that wavering emotion flickering in him, despite how hard Gray kept a tight leash on it. It hadn't worked. It never worked on him. Why was that?

"You have a death wish, don't you, _Natsu_," he scowled, the gritty emphasis on the name obvious. It echoed the sound of hatred, and the vibrating particles ignited by the way he spit the syllables out could cause an avalanche. Natsu, however, didn't flinch from the harsh projection of his voice. He didn't expect him to. In spite of it all, he wished the man would react in _some_ way.

Why was he offering himself like this? Putting himself right in front of him, completely vulnerable, giving him a one-hundred percent accuracy, acting as if his life didn't matter. Was he that insignificant? Did he think he wouldn't shoot? Did he think he was still the same Gray from ten years ago? Weak, defenseless, fragile, naive Gray? Or was he simply toying with him? He had to be. There was no other reason for the boss of one of the most powerful mafias to give himself up to a mere hitman. He could overturn the table anytime. The only reason why he didn't, and the only conclusion he could possibly come to, was the fact that the man was using him as a source of entertainment.

That had to be it. There was no other way. It made sense. And it made so much unbelievably fucking sense that he felt utterly ashamed of himself. Why didn't he realize it earlier? Why else would the man give him such easy access to his life? He was _amusing_ himself. And, he was the fool to fall for it twice. Why was he so fucking _stupid_? To be willing to give his nemesis the benefit of the doubt for a second time, he must have lost his mind. Without noticing it, he had subconsciously avoided the truth, just so he could give him another opportunity to humiliate him.

Cold fury raced through him at the thought, the feeling so strong that his arm, numb from raising the gun, dotted over with goosebumps. The conflict in his eyes disappeared, replaced with a different set of emotions, and Natsu noticed. In such proximity, there was no way he couldn't.

"Gray," he breathed, his brown eyes widening in alarm. A hushed sound, breathless with anticipation, and that other emotion he couldn't figure out in his current state of mindless anger.

"Natsu," he drawled, a mocking tone laced in the barely concealed hatred. "Nice seeing you again. I imagine you're pretty surprised to see me, just as how I'm surprised to see you."

Natsu was quiet for a moment. Then, a small smile spread over his frowning lips, and he said eagerly, "So you do remember. A long time has passed, Gray. Why did you disap - "

"Unfortunately, I don't have the time to hang around and reminisce," Gray interrupted. He pressed the gun more firmly to Natsu's head. The latter blinked. "I'm no longer the Gray you used to know. We have nothing to discuss. I'll see you in hell. Goodbye, Natsu."

He brushed off every sane cell screaming at him to stop, and he watched it all, that confused expression turning into a shocked look, mouth agape, jaw slackening, and brown irises moving rapidly. He committed it to memory.

And then he pressed the trigger.

"G-Gray. Hey, Gray - goddamit GRAY, DON'T - "

Suddenly, he was falling, falling, while everything happened all at once in slow motion. Something heavy on top of him cutting off his airflow, a swift punch to his abdomen knocking the wind out of him, and he landed with a thump, on the carpet. Pain surged through him instantly upon impact, and he gasped, eyes clenching shut. A hefty figure fell on him, and the pain doubled. He groaned, cursing under his breath, having difficulty breathing.

That something was warm. Too warm. But it wasn't blood. It was just body heat. He recognized it, even though the last time he felt it so close to him was a decade ago. Even though he should have forgotten it. He should have wiped it out. But his efforts weren't enough. He lacked resolve. And this was the result.

Things never turned out the way he wanted.

"Gray..."

A low murmur against his ear. Suffocating heat. He didn't want this. His head ached, and everywhere was sore. His distorted vision saw the fallen Lancer to the right of him, lying there, now just an innocent, empty weapon.

It had run out of bullets.

It was almost funny, how the world seemed to work against him at every turn and bend. Like it made it its goal to torment him until death, refusing to let him to live, just once.

"I didn't think you would go through with it."

Calloused hands gripping his arms, pinning them down on the carpet.

"Why?"

Voice breaking.

"Look at me, Gray."

He didn't. He _couldn't_. There were so many feelings rushing into him; he didn't know which one was correct - which one was okay, and which one was wrong. If he looked up at him, he knew wouldn't be able to handle it. He would just confuse himself even more. He couldn't afford to do that.

"I _said_, look!"

Demanding, aggressive, obnoxious.

"Shut up, Natsu. Shut up," was his gritted response. He refused to do as he was told. That was something the old Gray did. Always falling over trying to follow rules, becoming someone's, usually a girl's, play toy in the process, and unable to gather enough courage to fight back.

"Gray, you nearly killed me! Is that all you have to say? Ten years ago, you would've - "

"I said, _shut the fuck up_!"

Stunned silence.

Ten years ago, Gray would never have raised his voice like that. But then, ten years ago, he would never have held a gun, and _especially_ not point it at his beloved Natsu.

Gray finally looked up, dark, stormy eyes flashing. Anger, frustration, hatred at the forefront hiding the wounds underneath. Natsu stared down at him, speechless. The moon highlighted his bright hair, a sheen of ethereal pink. His face was shadowed and obscured, but even in the dim lighting, Gray could see the shock. It appeased him slightly. "Ten years ago, I would've what?" he asked, letting the question hang in the tense air. "Let you step on me until you're satisfied? Trip myself trying to be your perfect plaything?" The grip on his arms were clutching tighter, digging into his skin until he could feel bruises. The heavy weight of Natsu straddling his stomach made breathing difficult. Undeterred, he continued on, a cold smirk slipping over his lips. "Or, did you think I would have killed myself instead?"

Something dashed over Natsu's face. It took him a moment to figure out what it was, and when he did, it left him utterly befuddled.

Was that..._hurt_?

Why?

Why would he be hurt by that? Wasn't that how he felt? Wasn't he under the impression that once he found out the truth, he would have committed suicide? So why...

"Gray." Natsu's voice was low, almost a growl, a warning. His eyes were covered by his flamingo locks, but the way his body was shaking and his sharp canines were jutting out from thinned lips was undeniable proof of his anger. "I don't know why you're saying all this. I don't know what happened in the last ten years. I don't know why you tried to kill me just now. I don't know a lot of things. But you know what?" he said, raising his head, and this time, his eyes were flaring, set ablaze with intense emotions.

The intensity in his gaze made Gray unable to tear his eyes away. He was bright, like fire, and he found himself captivated, for all the wrong reasons.

"You're Gray Milkovich."

He remembered. _He remembered my last name...why? He should've forgotten. Why does he remember something so...insignificant?_

"And..."

This time, Gray was the one in shock. He laid there, on the carpet, body pinned down and trapped under Natsu, cobalt eyes wide open, stunned, small drops of a wet something frozen in the corners. Speechless.

The words ran through his mind, over and over. His voice traveling and repeating the same thing, until he had no choice but to memorize the absurdity of its meaning. Because there was just no way.

There was no way that he would say it now, after all this time.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that the door to the office had opened, and two individuals had stepped in: Panther Lily and Lisanna.

"Natsu! What are you doing?! Get off him! Did you get in a fight _again_?"

"Ahem, boss. Did anything, uh, happen, while we were gone?"

"N-no! We weren't doing anything! And who told you you could come in?! I thought I said to give me time!"

"Natsu, it's been two hours already! How much time do you need to hand over two million Jewels anyway? And if we didn't come in, who knows what could've happened! You looked like you were about to slug him!"

"A-aha, aha, a-ahahah, no way! I said we weren't doing anything suspicious! Geez, Lisanna, you never trust me."

"Oh come on, everyone in the family knows..."

"Mister Fullbuster," Lily's gruff voice sounded above him.

Gray nodded weakly, mind still jumbled in a confused mess, and he took the offered hand. He got back on his feet, thanked the bodyguard, but nothing else registered in his brain.

"Mister Fullbuster, this may be inconvenient, but the Council has launched a Raid. It is not safe to leave at this time. We think it is best for you to stay in the Fairy Tail headquarters tonight."

"Huh, a Raid? Right now?" he asked, hazily. He was exhausted. Too many things happened today. He couldn't possibly keep up with it all. And the most unnerving was _him_. Why did he say it? _Why_? Why _now_?

"Yes, we will arrange a room for you immediately, if you don't mind."

"Sure, whatever," he mumbled, distracted. His body was ready to succumb to sleep.

"A Raid? Must be because of the assassination at the summit. We have to be careful, huh."

Natsu yawned. "Let's go sleep. Gray can room with me."

"_What_? Why? Wait, why do you know his name?"

Gray drowned out the rest of the conversations, his head lowered, mindlessly taking in the oak floor as he followed the group of mafiosi.

It was unfair. After all this time, and after all the effort he wasted in trying to -

"_And...up until now, I've never been able to forget you. Because you're the only person I ever loved, Gray._"

Hot prickles of wet droplets staining the corners of his eyes, and the worst thing was, he couldn't stop them this time.


	5. Doors

**Rori's Corner:** Oh hey guys, look, an update! Haha. Thanks for waiting and all the awesome support. Make sure to check your inbox if you left a rev, dearies! And for the faves and alerts, you know I love those too! So without further ado, here 'tis!

* * *

Over Before It Began

**05.** Doors

* * *

_"See these?"_

_The photos scattered, fluttering onto the cement, and Gray watched them fall, just as his heart fell. He knew what he was seeing, but his mind took control, and he was reflexively not seeing them, even though they were here, lying around his feet. Cornering him in, trapping him in this humiliating madness._

_"Look at them carefully."_

_A hand tugged at his hair, bringing his head down, forcing him to take in the pictures, forcing him to see through his bleared vision, the truth that was laid, making him feel like a complete fool._

_His head was spinning._

_No, no, no, no, I don't want to see this, stop, I don't want - it's not true, why, why, why._

_"Aren't they so perfect together? Aren't you jealous? That you can never be her? That you can never be the one in these photos?"_

_The soft fingers in his hair were harsh; they weren't soft at all. They sank into his scalp, biting into his head, and he winced, as the grip shook him, causing his vision to blur and his neck to ache. "S-stop," he gasped in pain._

_Girly laughter rang all around on the rooftop, circling him, and he felt like a caged animal. He was their involuntary entertainment. He wanted to cry. His head throbbed, but it was nothing compared to how suffocated he felt, internally._

_His heart was sinking, sinking, and he tried to breathe, but he couldn't, and he realized that he was crying. He couldn't help it - he was crying._

_He was snot, tears, ugly._

_He was hopeless, stupid, weak._

_He broke down._

_"Oh my god, are you really crying? Ahahah, oh my gosh, Cana, look, he's crying!"_

_"Tch."_

_"Hey, fatty, did you really think you and Natsu were something? No way! I mean, look at yourself, you're ridiculous!" the taunting voice broke off into deranged laughter._

_I know. You don't have to tell me, I know I'm stupid. I'm stupid, okay? What more do you want from me? Why do you all like to torment me so much? Why me?_

_"You know Natsu never backs down from bets. He's so competitive."_

_"You're just as competitive, Mira. You and Erza both."_

_"Well, what can I say? That's just me. So anyway, I can't believe he kept it up for so long. He could've ended it anytime."_

_A bet?... Is that what it is? Is that it? That's all it is, huh._

_That's all it was, and I fell for it._

_"Natsu doesn't know when to stop when he's toying with something interesting. He's always been immature like that. Let's go, Mira. It's not safe to stay here any longer."_

_"Don't boss me around, Cana, hmph."_

_"Suit yourself. Don't come to me when you get your ass checked by the principal."_

_"Eww, Cana, what the hell!"_

_"Bye."_

_"Hey, don't just leave me here!"_

_"Oh please. And, leave the poor gay boy alone. The way he's crying just makes me feel like I raped him or something. I'll meet you at the tavern, Mira."_

_"Ugh. Don't tell Lis what happened, okay? She's just going to flip out at me, even though I'm doing this for her. You better not tell her, Cana, or else! Oh, and..."_

_Stop it, Gray. Stop being a crybaby. Just, stop. You should've known this would happen._

_Stop being such a damn weakling._

_I hate myself._

_I hate me more than anyone else._

_Isn't that enough?_

_"Here's a piece of advice: if you don't want to get treated like you're worth shit, you better man up, Milkovich. This world isn't kind. With the way you are now, you'll end up dead give and take a few years, if you even last that long."_

_The soft, deadly fingers were in his hair again, and he braced for the torturous pull, tears leaking from his tightly shut eyelids profusely._

_Instead of the harsh tug he was expecting, the hand just patted his head. He slowly opened his eyes, scared and confused, and found himself looking at a photo of Natsu. The boy he had grown so close to was grinning that bright, warm grin that made his heart pound. All he could feel now was a stinging numbness._

_"Open your eyes and look. This is reality."_

_He sniffled, but the stream of tears ran, unstoppable. Reality stared back at him. Reality was too bright, too sunny, too out of his reach. He had hidden from reality long enough._

_"Natsu lives in a completely different world. And you? You're just a normal, below average boy."_

_The soft hand was petting his head, gentle and comforting, so different from the edgy tone of the girl holding him in mental captivity._

_"You know nothing about Natsu. You know nothing about the dark world we live in. Cower in the light, Milkovich. It's better there, on the side where the sun shines."_

_The warm touch disappeared._

_Gray took in a shuttered breath and watched as the photo of Natsu dropped to the floor, landing atop the scattered pictures starring the pink head and an unfamiliar albino in various intimate poses._

_"They're set to self-destruct in twenty minutes. Plenty of time for you to make good use of them. I'm pretty sure you're the type of shameless boy that finishes in thirty seconds. See you around, Milkovich! If you'd lose the ten layers of clothes covering your skin, you wouldn't be the school's harassment toilet."_

_The door to the rooftop banged shut._

_Gray bent down, gathered the photos in his hands, and went to the perimeter. The railing stopped him from going farther. One more step, and he would have lost the ground he was standing on._

_He looked down from the roof, seeing figures of students and teachers going about their business. They were all absorbed in their everyday routines. Did any of them get humiliated on a daily basis? Did any of them know how it felt to be betrayed? Did any of them know just how painful it was to live?_

_His hands clutched the photos, and before he knew what he was doing, he was hurling them flimsily into the air. They flew, scattering, and all he saw was flamingo pink, before they exploded in the blue sky. The figures below looked up at the sound, and ashes rained down._

_No._

_None of them knew._

_If the side where the sun shone was destroyed by his own hands, then that must mean that he had always lived in the dark._

_He knew now that Ul was the only one who mattered in this world._

_Nothing else came close._

_One betrayal was enough._

_Don't trust anyone._

Bzz. Bzz.

Gray woke up to the pitter patter of rain drumming against the window. He was groggy and tired, the signs of an uneventful sleep. He felt his phone vibrate underneath the pillow. The bed was bigger than his bed back in the crappy one room apartment he rented, and he realized it was because he was staying overnight at the Fairy Tail headquarter.

The thought instantly made him become alert, and he peered around suspiciously at the dark room, taking in his surrounding and trying to get his bearings.

Bzz. Bzz.

He felt under the pillow for the mobile, his dilating eyes making out the silhouette of a drawer next to the bed, a closet in front of him, and the window to the left. It was still dark outside. How long did he sleep?

What was he dreaming about?

Photos...?

Bzz. Bzz.

It was about photos...on the rooftop...white hair...Mira...Jane?

Bzz. Bzz.

He tore his mind away from the disoriented trail of thought and answered the unknown number.

"_Gray_."

Cobalt eyes widened slightly. He leaned into the phone, recognizing the voice immediately. "Lyon, why're you calling me?" he asked, keeping himself low and quiet, toned to a whisper.

"_Is there a rule stating that I can't call my baby brother when I want to?"_

Gray felt himself warm up, and he snapped into the phone, "Screw you, Lyon! I told you not to call me your 'baby' brother! Do you know how _embarrassing_ - "

"_Where are you right now?"_

Upset that his rightful rant was cut off, Gray frowned, miffed. "Magnolia."

"_You do realize that the Council is on a Raid right now?_"

"Yeah, of course I know. I'm not totally out of it, _big brother_."

A small chuckle. _"Save the endearments for later. I want you to stay put. Don't make a move. The members of the IT are saying that the reason the Raid is conducted is due to a direct assault on a Commander. Did you do something, Gray?"_

"I happened to pass by one during my mission," the brunet replied. He heard Lyon make a frustrated noise with his tongue. He sat up, back against the wall. "I got her with an avalanche. What, did she survive?"

_"Let me ask you something."_

He knew the tone of an angry Lyon, and that tone was being reciprocated right now. He ran a hand through his dark hair, meeting tangles in a few strands.

_"Are you stupid?"_

Gray rolled his eyes. "Lyon, if I didn't put her under, the mission was going to be compromised. I had to kill her."

_"Maybe I haven't mentioned this enough, but touching a Council Commander equates getting your head offed. You may or may not have noticed, but I care enough about you and your stupid ass to not appreciate you dying before my time. You're not invincible. You're extremely lucky that you're still alive. I'm worried sick right now. If you even move a muscle and get yourself into more trouble, I will personally hunt you down."_

The comment about him being a 'stupid ass' got to him before the sentimentality, and Gray groaned. "For the last time, Lyon, stop referring to me like I'm an idiot. Even though I could be one. Shit, I _might_ be one, but that doesn't mean I can't do my damn job right!"

_"Oh? If that's the case, what is the need for a Raid? The Council is aware that someone targeted one of the Commanders. Now if the Commander is dead, they would just turn it to the Special Ops to investigate the death quietly. But, they decided to conduct a Raid, instead. Meaning, the Council Commander must be alive. They only perform a Raid when they have some evidence or clue of the assassin. They have soldiers stationed all the way from Magnolia to the Waas Forest, including Mt. Hakobe, with no news of the Raid Lift. Leaving Magnolia is basically impossible for the duration of the Raid, especially when we don't know how long it'll last."_

"...Fuck." Gray covered his eyes with his arms, thumping his head back on the wall tiredly. "Just, _fuck_. How the hell am I going to get away?"

_"In the meantime, figure out how the hell you're going to. Not. Get. Caught."_

"Thanks, Lyon. Thanks. I'll try not to get my head offed. You're so helpful."

_"Even I'm amazed that you constantly get in situations like these and not be dead. Perhaps Zeref himself is on your side."_

"Lyon, I'm going to cut you off before you start on the religious talk. I'm not ready to commit my soul to the devil. Plus, I don't have unlimited minutes on this phone, unlike _someone_," he accused, hearing Lyon snort at the remark. "So, I'll see you when the Raid's lifted. Bye."

_"Hmp, you sure talk big. I'll take you up on that promise. I believe I don't have to mention what happens if you die."_

"I got it already. Ciao."

_"What a little brat. Ciao, Gray."_

Smiling just a little, he disconnected and checked the time. 2:39 AM. He somehow only managed to sleep for one hour. No wonder he felt so wrecked. Sleeping the bare minimum was worse than not sleeping at all. But it couldn't be helped; he was in an unfamiliar territory. The anxiety was too big for him to simply to brush it off.

The life of a hitman groomed him into a cautious individual, causing him to always be on guard. He _had_ to be on guard. If he wasn't, he'd be dead long ago.

He laid back down, taking the soft cotton blanket off and allowed the cushiony mattress to calm his nerves. When was the last time he slept in such a comfy bed?

He couldn't remember.

_"Aren't they so perfect together?"_

That voice...that was Mirajane. He wasn't wrong. It was Mirajane Strauss, ten years ago. She was a demon, back in high school. She was the girl that no sane person would mess with, and at the same time, she was the girl every normal boy fantasized about behind closed doors at night. Gray was her favorite victim before he even became friends with Natsu, and after becoming friends with him, he started to learn about his friends, too. Mirajane was one of them. She was a nightmare itself. The teasing, the taunting, and the bullying escalated, but they were executed in a way that Natsu wouldn't find out.

Or maybe he just pretended not to know.

_"Natsu doesn't know when to stop when he's toying with something interesting. He's always been immature like that."_

Cana Alberona. Another one of Natsu's friends, part of the "Clique," the group of popular teens that all the students either wanted to be, or bashed, because they were envious of their popularity. High school was a playground for stupid, hormonal teens. Drama was everywhere. Petty bickering, popular and unpopular teens, rumors, gossips, and what else? Ah, "love."

Gray laughed humorlessly, hands behind his head as he watched the trees sway outside the window.

He was no different. He had fallen for something unrealistic, that he named "love," just like those other stupid, hormonal teens.

_"Aren't you jealous? That you can never be her? That you can never be the one in these photos?"_

Mirajane always knew how to dig into raw wounds, was always great at antagonizing others by simply using words.

With the dark memories surfacing one after another, Gray couldn't recall a time where he stood up to Mirajane, or one instance where he didn't feel like a piece of shit in her presence.

Because, in spite of it all, she was right. She was always right.

He was jealous. He couldn't answer her, because he knew she was right. He was envious of the girl in the photos, the albino who had her arms around Natsu, who was kissing his cheek, who was doing all the things he wanted to do with Natsu, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the worst part was that that girl - Lisanna, he realized, it was - and Natsu together looked so perfect, happy, and _natural_ that he didn't even have the right to intrude. That when he tried to put himself in her shoes, he felt like throwing up.

Because he just wasn't meant to play that part. He was just Gray. Gray Milkovich, Natsu's toy. Nothing else. That was really all he was, wasn't it?

"This world isn't kind," he whispered, repeating Mirajane's advice to him, from all those years ago. "I know that. I've known that for a long time now. You don't have to tell me."

_"You know nothing about Natsu. You know nothing about the dark world we live in. Cower in the light, Milkovich. It's better there, on the side where the sun shines."_

"That's where you're wrong, Mira," he told her, the Mirajane in his memory, the snarky albino with the big cerulean eyes, and he thought about catching the Mirajane of Fairy Tail and telling her the same thing. "My world was black to begin with. Ul was my only light. And Natsu...he was too bright. I don't belong there. I never belonged there."

He'd given up his sanity ever since he pursued the path of a hitman. He might be making sense, or he might be losing sense.

But did any of it matter? He was going to die either way, and it was okay, as long as he died holding the Glass Lancer.

None of it mattered.

Besides Lyon. And Lamia Scale. But they were prepared to die at any time, just like he was prepared. They were in the same boat.

"Ugh, too much philosophy," he groaned, burying his face into the soft pillow. Honest to god, when was the last time he slept in such a comfortable bed? Maybe six months ago, when he was at Lamia Scale, visiting Lyon. Time passed so fast.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His ears perked, and he turned his attention to the door, wary. The light in the hallway was dim, and he thought he saw something pass under the door crack. That something wasn't moving, now standing right in front of his room.

_Who..._

Knock. Knock.

"Gray, you're awake, aren't you?"

That voice...without a doubt, it was _him_.

Gray laid there, still. _Damn it_. As soon as possible, he was going to pack his shit and leave. He'd find a way to escape, even if he had to hide from the soldiers like the lowlife he was. _For now, just bear with it_, he chided himself.

Knock. Knock.

"Gray, I know you're awake. Your room's next to mine, you know? I could hear you talking and stuff. Can I come in?"

_No, you can't fucking come in._

He kept quiet, frozen on the bed and desperately playing dead.

Go away, go away, go away.

"Don't ignore me, Gray! I'm asking to be nice, you know."

_Go away, go away, damn it. Don't want to talk, don't want to see, don't want to know, don't want to have anything to do with you. Get it?_

"Gray, I have the master key. I have access to every room in the HQ, so there's really no point in pretending that you don't hear me."

_...Fuck._

Alarmed, he sat up, and as soon as he heard the sound of a key being jammed into the doorknob, he jumped out of bed and leaped over in what must be a record-breaking leap and planted his whole body against the wooden frame. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself on the door, forcing it to close just as Natsu managed to open it from the other side.

Click.

"What the hell!"

Gray smirked to himself, sweat forming over his skin, and then the victorious smile was wiped off when Natsu started Attempt No.2 at opening the door. He held it back with his shoulder and used the carpet to keep his balance. He could hear Natsu grunting as they engaged in the petty door fight. No matter how immature this looked, he was going to win it. Natsu was _not_ going to have his way. _Over my dead fucking body._

"Gray. Stop. Closing. The. Door," the mafioso panted.

_Over my dead fucking body! _Gray responded mentally.

He bit his lip and clenched his teeth, holding back the grunts of exertion. Natsu wasn't holding back anything, and he could hear the man's every noise, each and every one of his pants and grunts. Five minutes in, and neither gave an inch. The door was fixedly stuck between opening a centimeter and slamming closed right after.

Gray might have trained and underwent great physical labor and exercise, but fighting against another man with similar muscle mass and potentially greater strength was downright _exhausting_. The only thing keeping him going was his willpower.

And even that was nearing depletion. Any moment now, any second now, he was going to run out of everything that was keeping him going. He thought he was going to die, when, suddenly, movement from the other side ceased, as were Natsu's pants and grunts.

_Not_ that he was paying any special attention to them or anything.

He didn't question it. He just flopped down on the carpet, stamina thoroughly drained. That had to count as the exercise of the week, or something. He gasped for breath, body sore and aching. _Damn him_.

"Hey, Gray," the muffled pants of Natsu sounded from the other side.

He said nothing, fully content with just laying like a sack of lifeless potatoes on the floor.

"I...I'm really...I'm really _happy_."

_He's...what?_ Gray paused his harsh panting, Natsu's abrupt statement catching him off guard. He listened closely.

"Because...all this time, they've been telling me..." Natsu sounded out of breath, wheezing and all, but even so, Gray heard that indescribable happiness in his voice, which only left him feeling confused, "they've been saying things like, 'he's dead,' and that 'he died during the outbreak of Civil War,' and...I never believed them. And I...I've been...searching...for years and years. I've been..._looking for you all this time, Gray_. All these years, and you're right here. I don't want to go through it again, I don't want to let you go ever again, I just...I'm happy. I'm really, really, really, really, fucking really, happy, I don't know how else to explain it. I don't know what to do."

Natsu started laughing a breathless laugh, a laugh in relief, a laugh like he just succeeded in world domination, a laugh like he found an oasis in the desert, a laugh like he found out his terminal illness had a cure, a laugh that Gray had never heard before, a laugh that had Gray feeling weaker than the physical exertion just now.

A laugh that had him unable to do anything but look under the crack and see the flamingo strands of hair on the other side.

And when he breathed in a shaky breath, he had no idea why when the laugh faded into chuckles, and then into nothing but the calm inhales and exhales from the other side, he wanted to hear it again.

_Damn it._

He pressed his face into the carpet, smothering himself with the ticklish fur.

_I hate him._

* * *

**Rori's Corner: **Can we get a clap for the dumb bois

I originally intended to make this chapter longer. When I thought about writing this chap, I was planning on including Gray leaving the FT HQ, but then I started writing, and it got so long, so I just ended it here. I mean, who wants to read 9k words in one chap -coughcough-

So who won the door fight


End file.
